


Better Than a Picture Show

by Octopussocks



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is not a virgin, Aromantic Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Author uses the c-word Bc they think it’s hot, Belly Kink, Blood and Gore, Bottom Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Breeding, Breeding Kink, Cannibalism, Daddy Kink, Enthusiastic Consent, Horse cock, Intersex Character, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rutting, Shower Sex, Sub Drop, Val has both bits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octopussocks/pseuds/Octopussocks
Summary: Alastor's heats are two fold: first comes the cannibalistic urges, then comes the need to breed. A certain Pornography Overlord decides to help out of the kindness of his heart. Despite everything, Alastor has a good time.
Relationships: Alastor/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), valastor - Relationship
Comments: 32
Kudos: 203





	1. Two Kinds of Hunger

It started with an all consuming hunger. Terribly familiar and certainly unwelcome, Alastor supposed he should be used to this by now. He had been through 100 cycles, 100 years of torment, 100 ruts. Hell had a funny way of turning one’s sins against them, and despite the power that the Radio Demon held, he was no exception to the rule. One manifestation held him in its grip the strongest: never ending hunger, brought on by never truly being satisfied with any food after he first tasted human flesh. This, if Alastor had been a true believer during life, would have been a rather obvious consequence of his actions. 

The not-so-obvious ones bothered him more than the permanent pit in his stomach, however. Alastor could not stand the thought of sex. He had tried it in life at various points—maybe he wasn’t broken, maybe *this* time he would like it—but it never truly caught his fancy. Disinterest turned into frustration, and then he just hated the whole idea of it. He wasn’t sure if the sex-aversion or the touch-aversion came first, or if they were a product of one another, but it certainly didn’t help matters. 

What was Hell’s ideal punishment for a man who hated sex and phyiscal contact? Having a once a year heat cycle, of course; complete with pheromones to attract other demons, an insatiable sex drive, and a burning need to be touched. 

Bitterly, Alastor had the thought that an angel with his particular distastes would be celebrated for its chastity. But of course, this was Hell, and the sinners had to be punished in some way. 

Despite knowing this, and despite having 100 previous years under his belt, Alastor was caught off guard when the hunger started up again. This was easily fixed by a Very Special Broadcast that lasted no less than a week straight. 

It only took the first bite with razor sharp teeth, the first taste of blood, for his carnal base instincts to push him over the edge of rational thought. His mind was static, his vision red. Alastor was no longer a poor boy from the bayou, but the insatiable Radio Demon in all his damned glory. The more he killed, the hungrier he became until he was lost in the never ending cycle of hunting and eating and chasing satiation. 

On the seventh day, the static died down. 

On the seventh day, Alastor vaguely realized the vision in his right eye was bleary. His monocle was shattered and barely hanging on by its chain. He could no longer tell where the red of his suit started and the blood began. He ran his tongue over each pointed fang as if tasting his meals all over again, letting out a shuddering sigh. That was… satisfying. Yes, he could say that at last: he was satisfied. His belly was full, bloated, quiet. His mind had returned to him for the time being. Alastor was calm, warm, sated. 

Now to lock himself away in his radio tower like some fairytale damsel and wait for the less enjoyable half of his eternal punishment to begin. Maybe if he was lucky, Husker would pay him a visit. Besides the trust Alastor put in the cat, he couldn’t deny that his paw felt just lovely wrapped around his—

“Well well! Look what we have here. Bambi left his neck of the woods and trotted right into my territory.”

Alastor nearly frowned, but instead tightened his grin as his ear swiveled to greet Valentino before he turned as well. 

“It seems I’ve gotten carried away, Valentino. I’ll be on my way then,” he chirped, tone bright as ever despite the worry in his eyes. If anyone could smell the rut on him, it was Sex King Val. The thought of just what Valentino kept under that long coat was an incredible turn off any other day of the year… and yet… 

“Carried away don’t even come close to it.” 

Alastor stood firm as the taller demon strode towards him, heels clicking even as he walked through viscera to stand over Alastor imposingly. 

“You waltz into *my* turf and eat *my* girls, you gotta deal with me. Got it?” 

Alastor blinked up at Valentino innocently. A small growl emitted from his gut despite how full he was. The twitch of antenna told him that unfortunately, Val had heard that. No matter. 

“Perhaps your ‘girls’ shouldn’t be wandering the streets unsupervised.” Alastor leaned against his microphone cane casually. 

“Listen here, RadioHead, I don’t care what time of the month it is for you, but you—“ 

Alastor’s smile lessened a fraction as Valentino’s antenna twitched again. Val inhaled sharply, and a nasty grin spread across his face. 

“Well damn. Forget time of the month; yer in heat, baby.” 

Alastor scowled. “All the more reason to let me go home until this blows over. I doubt you want to be on the receiving end of my particular brand of lust.” 

He couldn’t help himself, Alastor inhaled as subtly as he could. Past the metallic smell of blood that clung to him was Val’s scent, heady and sickly sweet enough that it clung to his tongue. It was dizzying, it was overpowering, it was delicious. Alastor managed to avoid Val on all occasions, but especially during his heats. Never in his un-life had he smelled something like the potent smell rolling off of Val. Was it always there? Or was it just his heat? 

He swallowed thickly, drool pooling in his mouth. The scent was enticing to say the least, and Alastor leaned forward on his cane as casually as he could. Hopefully the swell of his stomach from his meals would cover the tent in his slacks. 

Instead of the revulsion he had hoped for, Valentino leaned even further over Alastor, challenging his personal space. 

“You know better than that, Bambi. What do you say we make a trade? I help you through this rut of yours, and I don’t break your kneecaps for eating two of my best gals.”

Alastor barked a laugh. “You say that like I’m afraid of you.” 

“Take it or leave it.” 

Valentino extended his lower right hand, and Alastor’s ears perked up. Valentino was actually foolish enough to want to make a deal out of this. This would work out entirely in Alastor’s favor, which is why he was hesitant. What would Valentino gain from this? Just a quick fuck? Was that all the pimp really wanted, or was there some power play to be gained? It didn’t much matter to Alastor--he could use Valentino’s inherent lust to his advantage and then destroy him if he sensed a threat after the fact.

“Fine. You help me chase my relief, and afterwards we both walk away unharmed.” 

“Well… unharmed is a bit of a stretch,” Val’s smirk cut through his face, “I do bite.” 

Alastor rolled his eyes. “Nothing nonconsensual then, yes, yes.” Static was sneaking into his tone, raw on his throat. The moth’s scent was becoming overwhelming, and the ache of need was becoming worse the longer the two stood in close proximity. Though his belly was full, a different hunger was quickly growing. 

Val and Alastor finally shook, green energy meeting pink and swirling up each other’s arms as the deal was struck. The energy turned to chains, and after making several loops around their arms, pink and green shot into each demon’s chest. Neither winced, they knew the game well enough by now, knew the pain. Now they were bound. 

Without warning, Alastor pulled Val’s much larger body against him. His shadows coalesced around them, quickly engulfing them together. When Alastor next opened his eyes, the two Overlords were in his private abode, the bedroom to be exact. As soon as he felt his feet touch the ground, the deer swiftly stepped away from Val. 

“What a dump.” 

“Yes, well, I’m sure nothing compares to your penthouse in the sky.” 

Alastor focused on the familiarity of his room. The smell, mostly; it was a comfort compared to Valentino’s. His stomach grumbled again at the thought. No, no. Eating Valentino before sex wouldn’t do well for Alastor’s need. 

The moth was glancing around as if the shadows in the room may bite—and they very well might, should Alastor allow it. But for now the corners of the room merely flickered in the dim light, jumpy but not leaving their hiding places amongst the natural dark spots of the room. There was some amusement in watching Valentino so on edge, though the moth was good at hiding it. His antenna was twitching madly, and his lower left hand continuously clenched and unclenched. Those were his only tells, and Alastor filed the information away for later use. 

“Does your whole place smell like blood?”

“That’s part of my charm, good fellow. Speaking of which, would you like it on or off?” 

Val grimaced, “I’d rather fuck you clean.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor’s suit was cleaned, dried, and pressed. The smell lingered, but it was no longer cloying. The deer ran his claws back through his hair with a shuddering sigh. Better. 

Apparently Valentino thought so as well, crowding Alastor, using his size to force the deer to back up until his shins hit the side of his bed. With a warning squeal of radio feedback, Alastor placed a finger against Val’s fuzzy coat, pushing him back just a fraction.

“Patience, dear.” 

“I can’t help myself. You smell better’n any whore.” 

“Such a compliment,” Alastor rolled his eyes. Bizarrely, Alastor could not smell himself, but Husker once described it as pennies and batteries and dirt. He failed to believe that his particular scent was better than any of Valentino’s workers. 

Val laughed sharply. “Alright, Bambi. We’ll take it slow. Gimme a safe word.” 

Alastor blinked. That wasn’t something any of his rare partners had asked for before. Val took the silence (and the subtle twitch of Al’s ears) as a hint. 

“You’re in heat, and believe it or not non-con just ain’t sexy. Doesn’t do it for me. I want your no’s to mean yes. Which means we need a word for when you really wanna stop. So think of something that’ll take us outta the mood. Get it?” 

“Hmm... Picture Show,” Alastor hummed after a moment of contemplation, self-amusement sparkling in his eyes. Valentino laughed, a rough but amused sound that sent shivers down Al’s spine. Something about the low timbre just hit right. 

“Was that a dig at Voxxy?”

“Who~?”

That earned him another, louder laugh, and before he knew what was happening Valentino pulled him into a kiss. It was awkward at best, Alastor tight lipped and Val bending over at almost a 90 degree angle because of his ridiculous height. 

Val pulled away with a small pout, noticing Alastor’s own smile was just a thin line. 

“Not one for kissing?” 

“I…. have never been fond of it, like most of this,” Alastor vaguely motioned to himself. 

“That’s a damn shame. You’re so ace it hurts.” 

“Pardon?”

“Ace. Asexual. Ya don’t like sex.”

“Ah…” Alastor didn’t realize there was a word for it. It must be modern. Best to move on from it. 

“Well! Thank you for the linguistics lesson, but I think it’s show time.” 

“Thank fuck.” 

With all four hands, Val lifted Alastor the short distance to his bed and held him down. Alastor felt torn between his two dominant instincts: the fight or flight of his deer-like nature and the desire of his heat. After a moment he allowed himself to relax. He had the deal in place, a safe word (which he barely trusted Val to honor), and the ability to rip the other Overlord to shreds. 

“Relax, Bambi. I gotcha.” 

Alastor tried, but the static that clung to him buzzed at his agitation. He wasn’t quite there, still sober, not quite fuck-happy from the heat yet. His mind was in the same place it went when he had attempted love making during life: static. It wasn’t as if he was panicking, his mind simply felt elsewhere. Apparently Valentino picked up on this rather quickly, as Alastor was brought back to reality by a tug at his ear. He twitched it and glowered up at the moth. 

“May I help you?” 

“You ain’t horny enough for this yet, huh?” 

Surprisingly, Valentino backed away and sat on the edge of the bed, though with his height he still loomed over the deer. 

Al blinked and sat up, feeling strange. He was fully prepared to take whatever came, and now Valentino was stopping? 

“The heat isn’t as bad as it could be, no,” Alastor responded after a moment, voice careful, smile confused. 

“Lemme know when you’re desperate enough for me then, babe.” 

Alastor glared at him, disbelieving. This was still Valentino, the Lord of all things Perverted. And yet he was sitting casually on the bed and pulling his phone out of his pocket. Alastor almost felt insulted, and the way his smile twisted showed it plainly. 

“I’m… going to shower then.” 

“Whatever you need, Bambi.” 

Another glare. Would Valentino ever use his name? 

Alastor left the room, but the shadows stayed as an obvious warning: touch nothing. 

At first when Alastor stepped into his shower, he planned on a purely clinical wash. He hardly took the time to bathe properly, considering he could just dispel any mess he got on himself. But today he lingered. Today he turned the hot water all the way up, scalding him until his skin was as red as his hair, his scars a stark white in comparison. Today he felt his muscles relax under the heat, and it felt glorious. He almost forgot about the moth in his bedroom. Almost. 

His stomach growled yet again. Alastor frowned and ran a hand over the bloat of his gut. He always hated that--he had a bottomless pit for a stomach and yet if he managed to truly and utterly gorge himself, it showed this little bit. Of course, on his emaciated frame, it was easy to see. Disgusting, yet oddly satisfying. The rut never helped matters, only enticed the fantasy of being bred. 

Alastor’s tongue felt fat in his mouth, and he realized he was drooling. Here it came, not a moment too soon.


	2. Obligatory Shower Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round one, Start!

Frustrated, Alastor swallowed down his lust the best that he could, but it was never that easy. His tail was twitching irritably and the base of his horns ached. He gasped, trying to suck in air. Breathe. The hot shower was harming rather than helping now, but he couldn’t bear to turn it off. The torturous spray felt like needles against too-sensitive skin, and he craved it as much as he hated it. 

The deer gripped his arms, hugging himself tightly, digging his claws into his skin. He had to keep it together, he had to at least attempt to keep his composure. If he lost himself to his rut, that meant he lost himself to Valentino, and he would rather die a second time than let that happen. No, he had to ride this heat out with his mind intact. 

His ears perked at the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. Alastor immediately replaced his smile, though it was tight and in no way reached his eyes. He stared at the glass door of his shower, Valentino’s blurry form moving closer. The moth whistled appreciatively. 

“S’like a fucking sauna in here, christ.” 

Alastor stood still, prey instincts freezing him in place. He watched through the frosted glass as Val’s red coat was doffed and purple skin was revealed. Damn. Al didn’t feel ready for this. Why had he been stupid enough to make a deal? Just thinking about backing out caused a warning headache to bloom. No, he couldn’t go back on the deal; not only was it demon law, but he wouldn’t give Valentino the satisfaction. 

That being said, he still jumped slightly in surprise when Val slid the shower door open forcefully. 

“You certainly *smell* ready, babe, so I came to… check…” 

The two just stared at each other, Val’s words dying quickly as his gaze roved over the deer’s body. To be honest, Al was ogling him in kind. Alastor knew that he was probably one of the very few Sinners to have never seen Valentino naked—he was sure the moth flaunted himself more than his girls did. But the fact of the matter was, *he* had never seen Val like this, and he was a bit taken aback. 

He looked oddly small without his coat and hat, and curiously the fluff around his neck was his own fur. Alastor always assumed it was the lining of the coat. The moth was impossibly thin, much like Alastor, but there was a softness to his thighs and his ass that made Al blush. He even had the ghost of tits, his pecs soft and supple and his heart shaped nipples looking perfect for biting and sucking. 

The most prominent part of Valentino was his unsheathed, full mast cock. It was disproportionately huge; thick rope-like veins zig-zagged up both sides, over not one but two rings of knots meant to lock him in place with whoever was unfortunate enough to be his partner for the night. Along the underside was a row of piercings that were guaranteed to stimulate whatever hole Val chose to use. The head was flat, easily palm sized, and flared. It was as thick as Alastor’s arm and even longer. Curiously, instead of a sack, Val had a large cunt with fat lips and a very prominent clit sitting comfortably below his horse cock. 

Alastor felt himself drooling just looking at Val. So many options. He could breed and be bred to his heart’s desire. He wasn’t sure he could fit even the head of Val’s cock inside him, but his heat wanted him—*needed* him—to try. 

When he looked up at Val, he found the moth looking over him similarly. Alastor was not shy about his body, but that came from indifference instead of confidence, and his need for privacy meant that Val was seeing something only two other denizens of Hell had ever witnessed. His ribs stuck out from him like the rungs of a ladder, hip bones just as prominent. His hands were covered in velvet similar to his antlers, ending in nasty hoof-like claws. Black fur started to grow mid calf and ended in digitigrade hooves, the same keratin red as his claws. These were things that he kept hidden, things that he showed no one. He was not proud of his prey-like features. He was not proud of the weakness that these traits implied, thus the secrecy. 

But now Valentino was staring, and it was equal parts off putting and arousing. 

The moth finally stepped into the shower with him, taller than the spray of the water even as he leaned over Alastor. 

“How are you even real?” Valentino growled. Alastor was about to quip back, but suddenly Val swooped down to kiss him. This time, there was no hesitation from either of them, their tastes mingling and rousing the effects of the deer’s heat between them. Fangs clicked together, nicking lips and slicing exploring tongues. Alastor’s lips tingled from Val’s saliva: a natural aphrodisiac. He moaned, the sensation combined with the taste of both their blood in his mouth, smearing across their lips, running down their chins, it pushed him deeper into his rut, deeper against Val. He had no idea what to do with his hands, gripping Valentino’s lower set of arms so tightly he was sure to bruise. The fog from the hot shower was the final nail in the coffin, the main ingredient that mixed every sensation together and turned Alastor’s mind into a potent brew of lust. He felt hot, too hot, unbearably so, and Valentino’s every kiss and caress was his only saving grace. 

“Please,” he whispered, only for Val to capture his lips back. He shoved Alastor against the wall of the shower, ignoring a burst of radio feedback, knowing it was all for show. The tile felt cold on Alastor’s shoulders, the respite from the water welcome. He arched his spine, wanting to press their bodies together, needing the contact that made him nauseous. 

“Safeword, Bambi.”

Alastor whined in protest, the sound more like radio interference than any noise a human ought to make. When Valentino raised his hands, denying Alastor of his touch, the deer out right snarled. Val grabbed one of Alastor’s antlers roughly, forcing eye contact.

“Tell me ya remember your safeword and I’ll give ya anything you want, Alastor.”

The way Val growled out his name with the venom, the promise of things to come made Alastor's blood thrum in his ears. He opened his mouth uselessly, tongue feeling fat and stupid, but after a moment he forced his words out. 

“Picture Show. Now may we contin-!”

He was cut off by another rough kiss, four hands roving over his body. Alastor moaned openly, static and some vague tune from his internal station falling from his lips. Valentino laughed darkly, amusement obvious. Any other day, Alastor would find it obnoxious, but right now the sound vibrated through him. Val’s hands were strategic and unrelenting. One grabbed what little ass Alastor had, the other lower hand wrapped around his dick, stroking slowly. One of the top hands had found a nipple to tweak and torment, and the last hand was gently caressing the swell of his belly, intent on tracing from the jut of his ribs to the prominent Y of his hips. He had never been touched like this, all at once, overwhelming his senses. He felt his hooves slip on the wet porcelain, but Val’s hold on him was enough to keep him standing. Despite this, Alastor held fast to the moth, claws digging into his arms. He hardly noticed that the hand on his ass was sneaking downwards until a long claw prodded at his entrance, and Alastor moaned. The rational part of his mind wanted desperately to jerk away from the offending digit, but his heat made him stay. 

No, Alastor couldn’t keep blaming the heat for his lust. He stayed still because he wanted more, and a moment later he forced himself down onto Val’s claw because *he* wanted it. Not the heat: him. The realization ripped a shameful moan from his throat, the static clearing enough that Valentino could hear his true voice; a rare treat. The moth chuckled above him, moving his claw and relishing the way Alastor squirmed against him. 

“Yer already dripping with pre like the desperate little doe you are.” 

Valentino twisted his finger and Alastor keened, voice reaching a new pitch that was laced with static. 

“Where’d that pretty voice of yours go, babe? Why the static?” He pulled his finger out before shoving it back inside of Alastor, up to the base knuckle. He timed it with his other hands; the thumb of one teasing the slit of Al’s cock, and both top hands pinching and tugging at his ears. It all seemed like too much, too fast, too hot. The Radio Demon gasped, sin-laden mind barely able to keep up with his body as he came, orgasm rocking him hard enough that his knees shook and his hooves slipped again. Valentino was quick to grab him with his upper arms, laughing in pure amusement. It wasn’t every day he saw the fearsome Overlord trip over his own feet after all.

“There ya go…” Val nuzzled against Alastor’s ears, clicking softly. At first Al wasn’t sure what the sound was, but he figured it must be akin to a purr. 

His own static was buzzing around him while he saw stars. It had been a year since he last allowed himself to reach orgasm, and he was out of practice. He forgot it could feel nice. 

Alastor glanced down at Val’s monster of a dick between them, hanging hot and heavy. Well, he *did* have to address that at some point, but he wasn’t nearly ready for it to go where Val wanted it to. 

“May I… repay you?” Alastor fought to keep his voice steady, but he still felt out of breath. Even now he kept his smile in place, ever the picture of a proud demon. 

“Go right ahead, I ain’t arguing.” 

Alastor switched positions with him; now his back was to the hot water of the shower, and Val was pressed against the cold tiles. He watched as Val arched his back in a perfect C shape; chest jutting out, hips pressed back against the tile, upper arms over his head while the lower set of hands gripped his own tits, pushing them together. Ever the performer. 

“Yer drooling, Bambi. Never seen tits on a guy?” 

“I live with Angel Dust,” Al chuckled, his infernal laugh track playing as he leaned up to run his tongue over Val’s left nipple. The moth hummed pleasantly, watching Alastor with intense glowing eyes, judging his performance. Well, if there was anything the radio host knew how to do, it was perform for a captive audience. 

He used the tips of his fangs to pull at Val’s nipple, his claws performing a similar dance with its twin. Al was rewarded with a small moan and an arch of hips that brought Val’s cock between them snugly. Alastor was slightly alarmed that the thing almost reached his chin like this, but that wasn’t what he was here for. Not yet. Alastor instead swirled his tongue around Valentino’s ridiculous heart shaped areola to soothe the nicks from his teeth, right before he bit down, leaving a wide circle of bite marks that looked more like a bear trap had attacked him. Valentino gasped and moaned, arching into the pain, and Alastor continued to lick and suck the blood from the soft, velvety skin. 

“You taste divine.” 

“Wait’ll you taste the rest of me.” 

The crude remark earned Valentino a sharp pull at the nipple that was getting less attention, and the moth hissed through his teeth. 

Alastor was interested in the rest of Val’s body, despite his remark, and he carefully lowered himself to his knees in front of the Overlord, careful of his damn hooves. 

“What’cha planning, Bambi?” 

Obviously Valentino liked being in control. It seemed like he got more talkative when he was on the receiving end, when he wasn’t sure what Alastor had in store for him. Was it a nervous habit? 

“Do you need a safe word of your own, Valentino?” 

“Heh. Mine’s Limo.” 

“Of course it is.” 

Alastor got comfortable. The spray of the water was in his way like this, but with the help of a shadow it was positioned more toward the wall than at the two demons. Down here, face to face with Valentino’s sex, the smell hit him hard. Past the cologne and even the sweat and specific musk of his dick, Val’s juices smelled sharp and strong. It was difficult to describe, especially for someone who was never really this up close and personal with other people’s anatomy, but he knew he liked it. 

Al’s tail wagged as he leaned up, licking between the folds of Valentino’s pussy. The taste was much the same as the smell: thick, almost tangy, and heavy on the tongue. Valentino moaned above him and Alastor took his time exploring this forgotten anatomy. If only his dear Mimzy could see him now! She would be proud after she got over the shock. 

Alastor was careful of his teeth, using as much of his tongue as he could. He pressed the flat of it against the lips, using the tip of his tongue inside the entrance. He was slow, languid, enjoying himself immensely. The little clicks and moans that Val was releasing with every breath were more than enough encouragement. 

“Fuck… you done this before?” 

Alastor looked up, his lips and chin glistening with Valentino’s juices, and the smile he gave was disarmingly sincere. He watched the moth blush purple and found he was quite proud of that reaction. 

“In another life, darling.” 

To prove his experience, Alastor dove right back in, swirling his tongue around Val’s clit. He gave it a few teasing licks before sucking on it roughly, watching the moth carefully. Valentino gasped and ground his hips forward desperately, his bottom hands flying to Alastor’s head and grabbing fistfuls of his hair. This in turn made Alastor moan, lips vibrating against Val’s lips. 

“Fuck, fuck, keep going—shit-!” 

Goodness he was talkative. Alastor was all too happy to oblige, grabbing Val’s surprisingly supple ass and digging his claws in, keeping him close and still as he worked. The smell, the taste, the sounds that Val was making, it was all too perfect. Alastor had the idea to bring one hand up, easily slipping two fingers inside Val’s cunt and pistoning them in time with each suck of his clit. Predictably, this got Val babbling praise and continued, gleeful moans and cries that made Alastor hard once more. The haze of lust was strong, the heat demanding he take his lover, but his own mind reminded him to take this one step at a time. 

It just so happened that step one ended rather abruptly as Val came with no warning. His hips shuddered, and Alastor could feel his muscles pulling tight beneath the grip of his hand still on his rear. Val gripped his ears so tightly it pulled the fur painfully, but more obvious than that was the rush of juices. Al did his best to lap up every drop, using the pad of his tongue to catch everything. 

“S-stop, hold it, Ba—“ 

Hm. That didn’t sound like Limo to him. Alastor curiously continued, pumping his fingers in and out of Val even still and meticulously cleaning him with his tongue. The more he worked, the louder Val’s protests became until he could barely speak between rapid fire moans. 

“Shit-shit-shit-fuck-gon--gonna-ahn-!”

If Alastor didn’t have his mouth full he may have cursed. Not only did Val cum a second time, he squirted directly into Alastor’s mouth. The deer groaned and lapped up everything he could, swallowing thickly and luxuriously. 

“Okay okay okay…. okay… no more, Al, fuck…” Valentino’s voice was low, husky, exhausted. His chest was heaving and his face was a deep royal purple. 

Alastor couldn’t resist just one more lick, sending shivers up Val’s entire body. He yelped and shoved the giggling deer away. 

“Let me recover!” What was supposed to sound threatening came out as more of a winded laugh. Alastor sat back on his knees and licked his claws off lazily, eyes still locked with Valentino’s. 

“Have I proven my skills?” He grinned, eyes hooded in lazy, prideful bliss. 

Valentino looked down at him with his own sedated smile. 

“You surprised me, RadioHead. Looks like I’m not gonna have to go easy on ya.”


	3. The Author Has a Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for waiting! Belly kink time, though it isn’t as intense as it could be. TW for Sub drop at the end. 
> 
> [Beta read by the wonderful RaiofSunshine!! Thank you so so much for everything!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiofSunshine/pseuds/RaiofSunshine).

The two washed, dried, and separated without much banter or fuss. Valentino allowed Alastor to have his space, partially because if he got too close he was met with shrill radio feedback. Alastor was frustrated with himself. Even with his powerful heat dictating his libido, even though he enjoyed his little romp with Valentino so far, he still felt like he was trapped in his own skin. As soon as the two had cleaned up, Alastor felt over wrought and sensitive. Noises were too much, including his own constant buzz, and even the sensation of his towel running over his body made him feel prickly. 

Looking at Valentino made him feel nauseous. He left the moth in his room and made his way to his kitchen in the softest, least offensive robe he had. He started his kettle to boil water for coffee--he couldn’t think of what else to do with himself. The familiarity of the simple ritual helped somewhat, his nausea subsiding by the time the shrill whistle of the kettle sounded. 

“Why am I not surprised you don’t have a real coffee pot?” 

Valentino’s amused tone was met with a fresh burst of static, distorted dialogue audible through the sound of stations switching rapidly. It took too much effort for Alastor to tone it down, and by the time he reigned in his phantom frequencies his headache had returned in full swing. 

He sat down without his coffee, head in his hands, and took several deep breaths. He wished Valentino would let him be, but the moth’s presence never left. In fact, Alastor’s ears swiveled and followed him as he made his way through the kitchen. Alastor didn’t have the energy to see what he was up to.

A few moments later, the sound of a mug being set in front of him made Alastor jerk up to meet Val’s eyes. 

“Here. You look like ya need it.”

Alastor took the mug and allowed himself a cautious sip. It tasted just like when he made it. He turned a curious glance to Valentino, who looked utterly pleased with himself as he sat casually in the chair across from him.

“What? You think I don’t know what a French press is?” 

Alastor turned his eyes back to the mug, his smile small and appreciative. 

“Thank you.”

Valentino made it no secret that he was watching Alastor. He had thrown his coat on around his shoulders lazily, but Al was sure that even this was done to purposefully look enticing. The pink glowing eyes that took him in did so with careful purpose, different than when Val was sizing him up before. He almost looked concerned. Alastor couldn’t place exactly why he hated that look on Val’s face, but regardless it only served to annoy him. Their little get together wasn’t for things like concern or worry, it was to satisfy Alastor’s base needs and Valentino’s sexual appetite.

Alastor growled and finished his coffee in a few gulps, hardly appreciating it as he should have. He went to his fridge and found a brown paper package. He barely bothered to open it all the way with his claws before he tore a chunk out of the meat that lay within. It wasn’t Sinner meat, but it would do for now. 

More of his buzzing subsided as he chewed and closed his eyes, focusing on the texture, the bounce of the raw muscle between his fangs, the smooth surface, the way it rolled over his tongue. The thin sheen of blood was seasoning enough, and Alastor found himself sighing in contentment. He swallowed, the action languid, indulgent, filling. He almost forgot about Valentino entirely, that is until he glanced over with half lidded eyes and saw the way he was staring. Val had a look on his face that said Alastor was a piece of meat made just for him. 

That, paired with the obvious scent of arousal, spurred Alastor on. He bit into the hunk of meat again, making sure to do so at an angle that let Val enjoy the show. He would complain that the pimp seemed to get turned on over anything he did, but in this instance Alastor could appreciate it. What better to stimulate arousal than the carnal pleasure of enjoying food, after all. 

“Bambi… if yer gonna keep doing that I’m gonna need the safe word.”

Alastor gulped the meat down, black tongue darting out to lick his lips. 

“Picture Show. I assume you’re ready for the scene where you take me in the kitchen?” 

He could afford a bit of playfulness. Feeding his heat was helping improve his mood, and he dare say he may even enjoy being touched again so soon after sex. Valentino’s scent was part of what was inspiring a fresh bout of lust in him. The moth was dripping with pheromones that enticed Alastor and set his aching heart to beat fast. He couldn’t imagine being so compliant so quickly any other time of the year, but now his body needed to be stimulated more than his mind hated the idea. This could be fun. Even if Alastor wasn’t accustomed to sex, he was accustomed to the appeal of food. Valentino seemed perfectly excited to watch him feed himself. 

“I’ll let you be the star this time, babe.”

“As it should be.”

The way Valentino was staring made Alastor shiver. It was downright predatory the way he licked his lips and grinned, and Alastor found himself matching the expression. He supposed he could be the entertainment for the evening. 

Alastor ran his tongue over the piece of meat in his hands, savoring the rivulets of blood that clung to its raw surface. His fur was on end, his senses heightened and pinpointed on his meal. 

He took his time eating, savoring. Before he knew it, Alastor was tearing into another package and nearly taking the whole cut of meat into his mouth, swallowing voraciously. He felt his meal drop into his stomach like a lead weight, and the sigh that escaped him could only be described as euphoric. He rubbed his stomach, smoothing the robe over its taut surface in pure satisfaction. True, he didn’t make the kill, but it was delightful all the same. The hormones that were infiltrating his mind told Alastor that he wished he was heavy with a brood as opposed to just meat. Thankfully that wasn’t something he had to worry about. Maybe he could even allow himself to enjoy the fantasy. 

He didn’t realize his eyes were closed in his bliss until he felt Valentino in front of him, and his eyes snapped open. The moth was knelt in front of him, though with their height difference they were eye to eye now. Alastor’s ears twitched curiously, waiting for the next move. 

Valentino was watching his face the entire time as he slid all four hands under Alastor’s robe, pushing it off his shoulders, both of them letting it drop to the floor. Roving hands caressed his shoulders, his back, his ass, and of course his accursed tail. Alastor whined and arched against the touch, craving it as much as he despised it. Despite them having seen plenty of one another’s bodies today already, Alastor saw Val’s cheeks tint dark purple as he looked over him. 

“Don’t stop on my account,” Valentino purred, lowering himself to nuzzle his face against Alastor’s full belly. The sensation made him feel dizzy with pleasure, and Alastor bit his lip to try and ground himself. The feeling of Val’s cheek pressing against him, of his stomach having no give to it, was bizarre as it was lovely. 

“Surely you don’t think this is attractive?” 

“Baby, it’s *adorable*.” To prove his point, Valentino nibbled at the sensitive underside of his stomach, trailing kisses and little nips with his fangs. He never dipped lower than Alastor’s belt line, simply teasing the gentle curve of his gut. 

“I look horrendous,” he countered with an airy laugh, squirming with every bite. Alastor wasn’t self conscious about it, he just knew that on his stick thin frame the proof of his overindulgence was perhaps too prominent. 

Valentino’s response was to hook his golden fang into the dip of Alastor’s navel and tug downwards, eliciting a sharp gasp from the Radio Demon. A fresh wave of heat pooled in his gut, and with it his cock was standing at attention. 

Val wrapped his claws around Alastor’s prick, thumbing the slick, dark head. In life and in death he had never paid much mind to his own anatomy, but he had certainly taken in the changes since dying. Along with the hooves and tail came a larger, thicker cock that faded from the thin black head to the thicker, cherry-red knot at the base. Something about the animal anatomy was humiliating, and he had never really been fond of exploring this new shape. 

Valentino seemed perfectly happy to do so, his claws curiously teasing his heavy sack and knot, up the base and sending buzzing shivers through Alastor’s entire body. 

“Keep eating.” 

Alastor obeyed, finishing the raw steak by tearing at it, chewing slowly, watching Valentino with hooded eyes. He allowed a few tasteful drops of blood to roll down his chin, only to gasp when Valentino leaned up to swipe at the fresh blood with his tongue. It was hard to concentrate with the moth’s constant touches, a reminder that Alastor’s body was in fact physical and susceptible to probing mouths and claws. 

Valentino clicked softly as he settled back down against Alastor’s middle, caressing the bump with two of his hands while the lower left continued to stroke his cock and fondle his balls. 

“Ya look huge like this. Betcha can’t fit in yer suit like this, eh?” 

Valentino’s smirk was down right lecherous. He knew what he was saying, how any Sinner in heat would react to that, and Alastor’s only response was a barely hidden moan. 

“Valentino…”

“Ya want my spawn dontcha? Ya want me to fuck you fulla babies, Bambi? Fulla fawns,” he laughed, low and breathy. He wanted it more than Al by the sounds of it. 

Alastor keened, one hand covering his mouth to hide his noises and the other gripping the apex of his belly. Heat pooled between his legs at just the thought of being filled with Valentino’s spawn, and despite how much he hated feeling his control slipping, in the back of his mind he loved the fantasy. 

“Fuck…. please, Val-“ His legs were trembling with ill concealed need. Al took a step back so that he could lean against the counter, but Valentino grabbed his hips and squeezed, forcing him to stay in place. 

“Tell me what you want, Alastor. I wanna hear it in that pretty voice’a yers…” 

The deer closed his eyes in response, letting out a harsh breath as if he could rein in his lust. He couldn’t let Val win him over so damn easily. But the way he said his name made his blood run hot. What good demon didn’t like hearing their own name, after all. 

Cruelly, Valentino halted all contact. Alastor’s eyes snapped open to glare at the moth as his body reacted, his breath hitching and hips twitching. No, no, he needed Valentino to touch him as much as possible, he needed the moth to take him *right now* and make good on his promise. 

Alastor grabbed Valentino’s shoulders with a snarl, shoving him to the kitchen floor and straddling his hips. Val groaned at the impact, but as soon as he looked up and saw how flustered, how desperate Al was, he laughed. 

“Say it.”

“I want you. I—“ lord he was not good at this; “I—want you to fuck me. Please, I… I want your spawn-” 

He bucked his hips with a needy sob, and below him Val groaned at the stimulation of their cocks rubbing together. Alastor dug his claws into Valentino’s shoulders until he drew blood, still desperately moving his hips, the stimulation edging him painfully slowly. Alastor’s breath hitched with every movement, lust welling inside of him and twisting in his gut. 

“I don’t ca—are how you… do it, just please-“ he panted, voice tight, grin wide. The movement of his hips and back was jerky, unstable. He dragged his talons down Valentino’s chest and the moth hissed through his teeth, bucking his hips upwards and making them both groan at the shared stimulation. 

“Ya wanna be my cock sleeve? You ain’t ready for that.” 

Alastor whined indignantly. He began to stroke the both of them together with the blood on his claws as lube.

“Then get me ready before you have a full demon on your lap,” Alastor growled out, his red eyes flickering before turning a haunting black. No more begging or pleading. He was getting what he wanted. 

“Don’t be a fucking moron.” Valentino’s purred insult was followed by two claws shoving roughly into Alastor’s hole. The deer cried out in surprise, tail raising high and voice catching beautifully in his throat. 

“You can’t even handle my fingers without lube. You think you can take my dick?” He twisted his hand, fingers splaying devilishly inside of Alastor. The Radio Demon slapped a hand over his mouth as he yelped and tears sprung to his eyes at the rough shock of it all. Still, he rocked his hips back on Valentino’s ruthless claws like a man possessed. Even as he whined and gasped, even as the pain mingled with the sweet heat inside of him, Alastor kept trying to adjust, his mind forcing him to adore the sinful mix of pain and pleasure. 

Or maybe that was just his masochistic nature. 

“Just give it to me you damn egotistical insect--!” 

Just when Alastor thought that he might be used to the invading fingers inside of him, Valentino curled his claws and ripped them out of his heated core. His scream was devoid of any static, a purely, painfully human scream, tongue lolling past his sharp fangs, eyes crossed at the sheer amount of stimulus. 

“Breathe, Bambi,” Valentino chuckled, bringing his claws up to lick the fresh blood from them. His saliva was tinted pink and strangely thick. “I just wanted to give ya some lube, just like ya asked for… But we’re gonna get you ready first.” 

Alastor swore under his breath as Valentino changed their positions, and not for the first time tonight Alastor found himself with his back against cold tile, this time that of his kitchen floor. Laying down so suddenly made his stomach slosh uncomfortably, a reminder of the hubris of his little feast. 

Valentino was on top of him in an instant, the moth chuckling lowly, dangerously as he looked over his own personal meal. Those sharp claws were inside of him again, too fast for Alastor to even comprehend, and as soon as Valentino was knuckle-deep, he licked the tip of the deer’s cock. Alastor squirmed, hooves slipping on the slick floor, hands grasping for something, anything. 

“Look at ya,” Valentino purred, ghosting his fangs over the sensitive skin of Alastor’s dick. Two of his free hands moved to rub either side of the Radio Demon’s belly, long fingers surprisingly gentle as they tested the weight. There was no give to the drum-tight skin, humiliatingly enough. Nobody had ever been this close to Alastor after his carnage, he had never let anyone see him like this. And not only that, but Valentino encouraged him to eat *even more*, even after he should have been sated. 

“Look how fucking round ya are. Ya know, gluttony’s a good sin if ya pair it with lust~” 

Blessedly and without another word, Valentino went down on Alastor at last. He twisted his fingers inside of him, slowly pulling them out all while he slowly took Alastor’s cock in his mouth, down his throat. When his muzzle touched the underside of Al’s bloated gut, he forced his fingers in and curled, making sure to catch every sensitive scratch he had made previously. 

With each bob of his head, Alastor moaned openly, hands reaching down to desperately grip Val’s shoulders. The moth was perhaps too good at this; his tongue teased Alastor’s sack each time he went down on his cock, he used his teeth with feather-light precision when he pulled back, and once Al was buried to the hilt in Valentino’s throat, the moth hummed lowly. It was all the perfect stimulus for a demon in heat. 

Alastor whined and twisted, his hoof constantly pawing at the ground. Each time he bucked his hips forward to meet Valentino’s mouth, he immediately slammed his hips down against the moth’s talons. No matter how he squirmed, Valentino was overwhelming him with pleasure. 

“Yes—lord, please-!” 

Val pulled back from his dick with an obscene ‘pop!’

“Thassit, Bambi, pray to the Big Guy, let him know ya found yer own paradise down here without him.” 

And then he added a third finger. 

The shrill noise that ripped from Alastor’s throat was delicious. The deer panted, bucking several more times until he hit his release with another cry. His face was flushed, mouth hanging open as he watched Valentino swallow every drop. 

“Good boy, Alastor,” he growled, dragging his tongue up the deer’s prick. 

The strange combination of praise that he would never normally tolerate and hearing his own name in a low, rumbling purr made the Radio Demon stay painfully erect. 

“Mn…” 

“Answer me, baby.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Alastor growled. He had a feeling if he answered correctly, Val would suck him off and move his sinful claws again, but he was afraid of what he would have to say. 

“Say ‘thank you, Daddy.’” 

The burst of static that Val received in response nearly knocked him on his ass, if it weren’t for his fingers buried in the Radio Demon. Alastor sucked in a hitched breath at the sensation of his fingers slipping and twisting almost entirely out of him, and it took every fiber of his being to keep his smile calm and neutral. 

“I didn’t hear yer safeword, ya can’t be that upset. Say it or I’m going up to the bedroom on my own.” 

Alastor bit his lip roughly enough to draw blood. What mattered more, his dick or his pride? 

“.... Thank you…” 

“.... Daddy.” 

“There it is,” Valentino clicked appraisingly, “now let’s fill Daddy up with more’a yer sweet jizz.” 

Valentino’s vulgar words and equally vulgar mouth wrapped Alastor in a thick cloud of lust that he couldn’t escape from, didn’t *want* to escape from. The moth was on him again, sucking his sensitive cock. His skin felt like it was on fire, but still he was desperate for another release. 

“Mph—fucking hell,” Alastor hissed, his hoof continuing its pawing, tapping out a skittering rhythm on the tile beneath them. He settled with clenching his own hands, nails digging into his palms and grounding him somewhat, but not nearly as much as he would like. 

Valentino’s fingers just barely, for a millisecond, touched something inside of Alastor that sent his voice to a whole new pitch. He gasped, body shuddering, half sitting up to look down at Valentino in disbelief. 

“What—what was that?” 

Val swallowed, the action squeezing the life out of Alastor’s cock, making him moan again. But it was nothing like that noise he made before. 

“Hit yer sweet spot finally? Lemme find it again..” 

Alastor cocked an eyebrow in question, his smile a curious line. Valentino curled his fingers at just the right angle, and Al let out an indignant yelp as magma pooled hot in his lower belly. He flopped back onto the chilly floor, feeling sweat running down his temple and sides. Beneath him, his trapped tail was wagging constantly, eagerly. He needed that sensation again. 

“Valentino—“ 

Here goes his pride 

“Daddy, give me more of that incredible feeling-!” 

“You got it, doll.” 

Alastor screamed when Val seemed to find that sweet spot again, constantly stroking and scraping at it with his claws. Luckily the pain was the main factor of Alastor’s enjoyment, and a part of him wondered if Valentino knew that as well, or if he was this rough with all of his flings. The other part of him didn’t care, he was just grateful that it was happening at all. He twisted his upper body, arching his back and squirming while he shouted obscenities with every breath. His poor stomach was sore from all the moving around he was doing, and he had to hold it with one hand to keep it steady as he rode Val’s fingers, bouncing against them mercilessly. 

“Thassit, baby, ride it out. Look how goddamn cute you are.” 

A hand went on top of Alastor’s, fingers curling and claws digging into his gut, creating more pressure that made Alastor whine even louder. 

When Val went back to sucking his dick, Alastor was done for. He screamed his release, tears freely running down his cheeks at the multitude of sensations that he was being subjected to. Even once he came, feeling the hot, tight walls of Val’s throat around him; even as Valentino’s fingers still spread and fucked the too-overworked hole, still he wanted more. It was only when he realized with some level of horror that he was *still* erect that he needed to stop, his vision fading at the corners of his eyes. 

“P—Picture—please stop-“ 

Immediately, Valentino stopped all contact, from his lips to his multitude of hands, sliding out and off of the deer.

“Breathe, Bambi. Talk to me.” 

Alastor swallowed thickly, shaking his head. It felt hard to speak. His body trembled still, his legs felt numb. How many times did he reach his climax? He couldn’t even remember anymore. Alastor’s head was swimming, breathing roughly through his nose. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and chewed his lower lip. 

“It’s… too much,” he wheezed, static heavy on his tongue, scratching his throat and using his voice box as a Jacob's ladder. 

“How ya feel? Cold?” 

“Freezing.” 

“Alright, fuck. Think ya dropped, Al.” 

The deer had no idea what this meant. He was still shivering, and his mind was racing so fast he didn’t even comprehend what he was thinking about. 

“Can I touch you?” 

“No.” 

“Can you magic yourself up to your bed?” 

Alastor nodded. It took a moment, he had to catch his breath and concentrate, but thankfully there was enough of his own blood on his hands that he was able to sink into his own shadow. 

He was dropped rather unceremoniously onto his bed. Luckily he was paying attention, or he would be face down on the floor right now. 

Valentino arrived shortly, his ridiculous coat back in place, though his hat was humorously absent. 

“Alright, so yer in sub drop. Happens when ya get too worked up one way or the other. The fact that yer in heat ain’t helping.” 

The words meant nothing to Alastor. He curled his knees to his chest and made himself as small as he possibly could. He looked to Valentino, his ears drooping. 

He didn’t have the energy to speak. He glanced to the radio on his desk, not sure if that would be easier to communicate with or not. He didn’t even want to try. 

“Bambi.” Val snapped his fingers in front of Al’s face, and the deer growled lowly as a warning to not do that again. 

“You don’t gotta talk. I’m gonna wrap you up in your comforter, Kay?” 

The deer only huffed, not moving. He didn’t have the energy. 

Valentino essentially wrapped Alastor up like a burrito, much to his chagrin. 

“I can’t even count how many girls have dropped on me, even if I take all the precautions…” Val was muttering as he made sure none of Alastor’s skin was showing aside from his face. 

“You dropped and I didn’t even have to smack your ass. Musta done a good job.” 

The glare he received told him to shut up. 

“Okay, okay. Normally I would draw up a bath, but we just showered. Hm…” 

Valentino looked around the room for something before he spotted the radio. He clicked it on, an old song playing, a fun rag time song by Irving Berlin. Even through his haze, Alastor saw the recognition come over the pimp’s face. 

“Damn. Haven’t heard this song in…” 

Alastor’s ears finally lifted, curious. 

“This song is from 1911.”

“I’m old, Bambi. I been doing this a long, long time.” 

Alastor stared at him for some time, neither of them sure what the next move should be. Finally, Alastor scooted slightly to the side. 

“You can sit with me.” 

Valentino took the invitation, sitting beside Alastor and curling his long legs up onto the bed. The mass of the comforter leaned ever so slightly against Val’s chest. 

They stayed that way, not talking, listening to the radio. Alastor’s natural frequency aligned with that of the little device and his breathing seemed to even out at last. 

Once Benny Goodman started to play, Alastor was dozing off, and Valentino was finally able to wrap an arm around him.


	4. A Good and Lazy Fuck

Thank you everyone for being patient with me while I get the next chapter up! We have been in the process of moving and it's taken up a lot of my time lol. Special thanks and shout out to [HuntingPeople, King of Valastor (official title). Thank you for the 69 idea!!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntingPeople)

~~

When Alastor next woke up, he was sore beyond reason. He glanced around blearily without moving his head, eyes landing on Valentino. The two were still curled together, their backs against the headboard, Valentino’s impossible height looming over him even as he relaxed with his secondary set of arms folded neatly over his lap. He had one primary arm behind his head to act as a pillow, the other was still wrapped around Alastor’s cocooned shoulders. 

The deer sat in silence for some time. He listened to his radio, the little device cycling through various songs from the 20’s and 30’s, with the occasional 40’s song. Some music was acceptable after he had passed on. Not all, but some. He listened to the sound of Valentino breathing, a soft rhythmic noise that Alastor found himself not hating.

“When did you die?” The Radio Demon whispered. He hardly expected an answer, despite desperately wanting one. 

Valentino, evidently awake, cracked one eye open just barely enough for the unnatural pink glow to reflect on his cheek. 

“You don’t wanna know that, Bambi. Rut’s got you emotional. Don’t find attachments where there ain’t any.” 

Alastor pouted, a strange sight with his smile still in place. 

“The fact that you have fond memories of ragtime music is intriguing to me.” 

Valentino closed his eyes again. Alastor gave up waiting for him to say anything, settling into the comforter once more. 

“We still had carriages when I was alive,” Val said. 

“Well I did as well, that hardly means a thing.” 

“No, I mean… no cars. Or at least not for guys like me with no money.” 

Alastor nodded, trying to make a timeline in his head for his own reference. Valentino had been very well established in his territorial affairs by the time Alastor came to Hell, so the late 1800s made sense to him. 

And the fact that he let slip that he had no money at the time… that was something Al would file away for later. 

“What about you, Bambi? Tit for tat.” 

The deer huffed through his nose. Well, at least he could be vague. 

“I lived to see the stock market crash back in ‘29… but not much longer.” 

Again, they fell into a heavy silence. Valentino shifted so that he was no longer touching Alastor, and immediately the deer missed the weight that had been around his shoulders. Not the touch necessarily, just the feeling of being weighed down and secure. 

“I’m gonna get you some water, you need it.” 

Al watched him leave. With the sound of Valentino’s breathing missing from the room, he made due by increasing his white noise. He unwrapped himself from his blanketed prison, the chill of his room refreshing. He felt better, if not still a tad shaken. 

The lingering lust from his heat still gnawed at Alastor’s insides, but it was small, negligible. Easily controlled. Perhaps the attention to his prostate (yes, now that he was coherent, he knew that’s what the ‘sweet spot’ had been) helped simulate being bred. He knew it wouldn’t be enough to hold off the instincts forever, but for now the urge to fuck was in the back of his mind where it belonged. 

Valentino came back shortly, and Alastor took the glass of water that he brought with a grateful nod. Even after he finished and put the glass to the side, neither of them spoke. They both knew that Alastor was still in a rut, the scent was hanging thickly in the air, and yet they were keeping to themselves. Al had to give the pimp some credit: he had been incredibly decent this entire time, more so than he had ever anticipated. Dare he say, when this was all over, he may not even regret it. 

The pimp stood by the window and took out a cigarette seemingly from nowhere, and a long holder from an equally unknown place. Alastor watched in amusement as Valentino took a puff, the cigarette instantly lighting itself. 

Show off. 

Alastor stretched his arms over his head, feeling each vertebrae pop loudly in turn, and he groaned languidly. 

“The next time we fraternate had better be on my bed, I’m tired of having sex on tile,” he complained in Valentino’s general direction.

“Deal,” he chuckled in return, leaning against the wall and watching as his smoke wafted under the small crack in the window. He continued to smoke, the sweet cherry-wine smell filling the room and dampening the hormonal scent that hung in the air. Alastor vaguely realized that this was different from the cigarette smell that clung to Angel when he came home from the Porn Studios. That smell was more akin to Valentino’s natural scent; this was simply a cigarette. Val must have realized that Alastor was already getting enough pheromones as it is. 

Soon enough the cigarette was finished and discarded, never hitting the floor before it vanished. Valentino slipped back into the bed, folding his legs under himself so that he was able to fit. 

“You up for cuddling?” 

Alastor squinted suspiciously, unsure. He thought about the comforter, how he enjoyed the weight of Val against him at the very least. He snapped his fingers and a blanket that was typically draped over his couch popped into existence, wrapping itself around his shoulders. He helped it the rest of the way so that he was mostly covered, and then he scooted next to Valentino again. 

“This way you can be under the covers as well,” he muttered, hesitantly touching shoulders. Valentino grinned widely, throwing the comforter over both of them and immediately wrapping all four of his arms around Alastor to pull the burrito’d deer against him. 

“Oof-! You’re much too excited about this.” 

“I like to cuddle, fuck you.” 

Alastor twisted so that he could be the little spoon, curling his legs while Valentino seemed to meld to his shape perfectly. The moth hid his face between Al’s shoulders, clicking softly. 

Miraculously, Alastor hated none of this. 

For the first time since his rut began, Alastor let himself relax. The tightness in his shoulders disappeared, helped by Valentino kissing his neck over the blanket. Who knew the pimp was so affectionate? Who knew Alastor would accept that affection so readily? 

It was just the heat, surely. 

“Tell me, Bambi, how do you usually deal with these heats of yours?” 

Alastor shuddered, the ear that Val whispered into twitching and lightly slapping the moth in the face. His voice was just so low and controlled that it set his blood on fire once again. 

“I have… various methods,” he whispered back, his own voice low as he shivered in delight. 

“Tell me.” 

Alastor bit his lip and squirmed. Valentino’s hold tightened around him, trapping him in his blanket cocoon. Two of his hands smoothed the blanket over Al’s body until it was like a second skin, and the barrier did little. Alastor felt everything. 

“My… mm.. my Shadow helps me. I don’t mind its touch.” 

“Yeah? Show me.” 

Valentino dipped a hand between Alastor’s legs, only for the briefest of moments. It was enough for the deer to whine softly and roll his hips forward, hoping for the skilled touch of another. Unfortunately, Valentino’s hand dragged back up his belly, settling on his chest where his claws could pinch and tease his nipples through the fabric. 

“Teasing bastard,” Alastor hissed. 

“I’m feeling lazy all of a sudden. Tell yer Shadow to take care’a ya.” 

Alastor turned his head at an unnatural angle to glare at the pimp, but he was met with a grin almost as wide as his own. 

He growled, taking a deep breath and willing his shadowy figure into existence. It sat on the bed in front of the two demons, eerie smile jagged and glowing bright blue. 

The thing zipped forward quickly, taking stock of the Overlords, looking from one to the other as if asking a question. 

“Yes I’m serious. Don’t question my bed partners.” 

It shrugged, then gestured at the blanket. Alastor hesitated; he had been perfectly content to just relax for now, but it seemed that the universe had other plans. Oh well. 

He allowed the shadow to remove the blanket, but Valentino went right back to holding him snugly against his chest. Now Alastor could feel every kiss and nibble on his neck, and he shivered at the little thrill of teeth on the nape of his neck. 

The Shadow leaned down and wrapped what was technically its mouth around Alastor’s cock, forcing a moan out of him. Whereas Valentino was skilled, precise, teasing, the Shadow’s goal was to make its master cum without much pomp and circumstance behind its actions. Alastor knew what he liked and the fastest ways to make himself orgasm. It wasn’t necessarily fun, but it got the job done. 

But now he had an audience. An audience that was participating in stimulating him, an audience whose body heat he could feel on his back, whose hands were roaming over him, sensual yet patient, waiting to see where this shadow play was going. Suddenly his Shadow’s mouth felt even better than before. 

It was a quick affair, perhaps quicker than usual. Despite the languid, almost lazy nature of the blowjob, Alastor was just sensitive enough from his heat that his stamina was shot. Alastor came with a small groan and his shadow was eager to lap up every last drop of seed. Al settled back against Valentino’s chest, glancing up at him. 

“It really isn’t that exciting when left to my own devices.” 

“Well, I liked it.” 

Valentino stroked Alastor’s cheek gently, and with his lower hand he gestured for the Shadow to come closer. Once it leaned in enough, he stroked its cheek too, and was absolutely delighted when both Shadow and Master buzzed in that warm, pleasant way that signaled they were pleased with the action. 

“Want some tips to spice it up?” 

Two pairs of eyes turned to Valentino, half lidded, lazy, curious. It made him shiver in delight. 

“Try a 69. They had that when you was alive, right?” The pimp chuckled, only to out right laugh when Alastor’s shadow cocked its head to the side like a confused animal. 

“Ya lay on each other and suck dicks.” 

Alastor’s smile went flat in thought. He sat up, looking his shadow over, possibilities running through his mind quicker than he could fully imagine them. The shadow spread its legs, an obvious bulge forming from the darkness to show that it was ready and willing. But Alastor looked back to Valentino. He was warmer, softer, more real than his shadow could ever be, and though he was loath to admit it, he wanted the moth more than he wanted his phantom self. 

“Perhaps you could demonstrate.” 

That got a rise, Valentino’s antenna stiffening. 

“As pretty as those lips’a yers are, I don’t think ya can fit them around my dick, babe.” 

“Well, I’ve already had a taste of your… other parts.” 

Alastor ducked his head and his ears as his face burned. ‘Vagina’ sounded painfully clinical, but he couldn’t bring himself to say something as degrading as ‘pussy’ either. And Lucifer forbid the third name for that particular bit of anatomy. Of course, Alastor’s lack of vulgarity just made the lecherous pimp grin. 

“Fuck, Al. Yer too cute. Just say ‘pussy’.” 

“No thank you!” 

Valentino wrapped all four arms around the deer, holding him close and teasingly kissing at his neck and shoulders. 

“Just say it!” 

“What will you get out of it?” 

“I’ll get to hear the Radio Demon say pussy. Ya already called me Daddy--this any worse?” 

“Ten times, perhaps.” 

Valentino’s kissing turned to little nips with his teeth. Alastor squirmed in response, but didn’t give in. 

“Yer such a wuss.” 

Ah, Alastor knew he was about to regret this, but it would be so very worth it for the reaction. 

“Don’t you mean… a pussy?” 

His naughty grin was met with rancorous laughter from the taller sinner. He squished Alastor against him the harder he laughed, and soon the deer gave in and laughed with him, softer but just as amused. 

“Hoo shit,” Val wheezed, “christ on a goddamn stick.” 

“That is usually how he’s depicted, yes.” 

The dead-pan retort only served to push Valentino into another giggle fit. Alastor allowed himself to be tightly squeezed if only because he was laughing right along with the pimp. Had he ever had a rut this pleasant? He couldn’t remember them clearly, but he was certain that this had at least been the most entertaining, and that had to count for something. 

“Fuck…. aight,” Val huffed at last, “let’s teach ya a proper 69 yeah?” 

Alastor wiggled out from the many arms surrounding him, allowing Valentino to lay on his back properly. If the moth stretched out entirely, he was far too big for Alastor’s twin sized bed, so he was bent at the knees. Alastor looked him over; even just the length of his torso was taller than the deer. How were they going to do this? 

Well, hopefully Valentino would have a plan. Alastor couldn’t be the shortest Sinner to lay with the Overlord. The moth pat his middle invitingly and Alastor sat facing away from him, tail twitching the whole time. 

“Aight, Al. Yer gonna have ta lay down on me.” 

The deer nodded, about to do so when Valentino squeezed his tail. He yelped in surprise, nails digging into purple flesh. Val didn’t seem to mind. 

“Concentrate, Bambi.”

“You’re hardly making it an easy task!” 

Despite his protests, Alastor laid over Valentino’s torso while he attempted to wiggle his tail out from the moth’s grip. He gave one careful lick across Val’s sheath, the lingering taste of cum sending a jolt through him and jump starting his rut-brain. He took no more time burying his head between Valentino’s legs and delving his tongue into the slit of his cunt. 

Valentino arched his back, groaning in delight as his cock began to bulge and fill out the sheath until it was standing proud and thick over Alastor’s shoulder. The deer had to shift around it, letting it sit over the small of his back, heavy and leaking already. 

“That’s the stuff…” Val sighed. He shifted, bending at the waist and lifting Alastor’s hips just enough so that the pimp could reach that beautiful dark prick, laving his prehensile tongue around the Radio Demon’s rod. 

Alastor keened, letting out little pants and moans against Valentino’s thighs. He writhed in pleasure, eyes sliding closed. Something about pleasing a partner while also being pleasured just seemed right in his mind. There was no pressure this way, no expectations. Alastor was fairly sure that he had heard the term ‘lazy fuck’ before used for things like this, and it seemed appropriate: this was an easy, lazy way to fuck, and it was nice after the frevor of the past day. 

Oh Lucifer it’s only been a day. 

The two rocked together, focused wholly on pleasing the other demon. Both worked with a sense of pride and devotion, something perhaps beyond the rut that neither wished to acknowledge. Alastor’s mind was wandering to the possibility of his next heat cycle, or even Valentino’s. Surely a moth has a heat cycle to deal with. 

Why was he thinking about this? After this heat, Alastor planned on kicking Valentino out of his home and not speaking to--or touching--anyone for at least a month. But now all of a sudden he was hoping that the pimp had a cycle that he could help with? 

A rather rough suck to his cock made Alastor forget about whatever he was thinking of, a moan rising in his throat and turning ragged by the time it reached his mouth. Damn Valentino’s experience; the purple Overlord was much more adept at giving head than Alastor could ever hope to be, and even at the slow, languid pace, the deer felt close. Fine. He could play dirty as well. Alastor reached a claw to the monstrous dick throbbing over his shoulder and began to stroke it, at least what he could reach. He quickly found a rhythm between his tongue and his hand, and was thus rewarded with a low moan from Valentino. 

“Fucking hell… s’cheatin’...” 

“Mm, keep your mouth busy,” Alastor chuckled in return. 

Somehow the gentle mutual menstrations of both demons turned into a competition. Valentino’s pace quickened and Alastor worked to keep up. Both his hand and tongue weren’t enough compared to the pimp’s skilled mouth, and Alastor reached his orgasm with a long, low moan of pure lethargic pleasure. Valentino’s throat tightened around him as the pimp moaned in response, pulling more seed and pleasure from the deer. He squirmed, hand stilling as he was thoroughly distracted, panting against Valentino’s pussy. 

“Keep yer mouth busy,” Valentino grinned naughtily, the tone of his voice sending a chill through the deer. He continued lapping at the wet lips, focusing on the taste, the smell, how soft the skin here was. He wouldn’t call it feminine, it didn’t suit Valentino, but it was definitely *him*. Intoxicating, heady, sweet all at once. Damn this heat making him sensitive, making him yearn for tastes and smells that have never interested him before. 

Valentino’s whine alerted Alastor to his orgasm before the moth squirted right into his mouth. Alastor happily drank everything he was given, swallowing and still cleaning every inch and fold he could, making sure nothing went to waste. All the while the moth chittered happily, arching his too-long spine and gripping Alastor’s thin hips while he rode out his climax. 

When he finally settled down, Alastor allowed himself to lay against him once more, cheek pressed against a soft thigh. 

“Fucking hell, Al.” 

“You… you say that a lot,” he panted back, grin widening. 

He got a smack on the ass for his comment, the deer yelping and raising his tail with a small warning growl. The growl was not heeded. 

Another rough smack, and suddenly Alastor was stradling Valentino’s chest between two sets of limbs, glaring down at him. Valentino smiled lazily. 

“Ya didn’t say ‘Picture Show’.” 

“...” 

Conceding, Alastor pouted and allowed Valentino to run his fingers through his tail fluff, squeezing and petting it. He liked that better than the slaps, at least while winding down from sex. 

“Ya feel good, Al?” 

He nodded. Good enough; some of his touch-aversion was surfacing again, skin feeling prickly and sharp any time a hoof brushed against the sheets just right. The touch to his tail wasn’t unpleasant, surprisingly. 

“And yourself?” he asked back, placing his hands on the moth’s chest and reaching up to play with some of his neck fluff. So soft… surprising for someone who he had determined so cold before. 

“Fuckin’ great. Never thought I’d see the day when I could touch ya like this, Bambi.”

“You’ve thought of me like this often?” 

“You kiddin’ me? A new demon waltzes into town, destroys a fourth of the population? You bet yer ass I’ve wanted a piece’a ya.” 

“I should add you to the body count just for that,” Alastor growled, but there was no venom to his words. How could he possibly be angry when, in a way, Valentino’s curiosity was exactly the point of Alastor’s little ‘welcome to hell’ massacre? He didn’t expect the sexual nature of such curiosities, but it was flattering nonetheless. 

That brought another strange realization to light: Valentino had wanted this for 100 years. 

“I’m still surprised how much you seem to like all this,” Alastor gestured at himself, at his knot, at his too-obvious ribs and dangerously pointed hip bones that would surely turn any other Sinner away.

“I’m the King of Kinks, baby. My repertoire is unheard of. Hell, I’d even let you piss in my mouth if you was into it.” 

Alastor’s permanent smile became a very, very thin line on his face, none of his fangs visible. 

“Repulsive.” 

“Your loss.” 

Alastor gave him a light slap to the chest and fell off of Valentino rather unceremoniously, flopping beside him. He pulled the blanket from before around him for the added tactile protection. 

“Have you thought about what happens after all this?” 

“Nah. I’m just ridin’ this out long as I can.” 

Alastor looked up at him, locking eyes, red and pink both searching for something. But what? Did Valentino also hope for a reunion later? Did he think that perhaps there was something here more than lust? Surely not. The man was the most well respected pimp in Hell, he knew not to form attachments to his clients. Not that Alastor would ever think of himself as such, but the same principles applied. 

“I see. Good, then!” Alastor rolled over quickly, cutting the eye contact just as swiftly. 

Valentino stayed laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. Alastor had nearly fallen asleep again when he heard him sigh. 

“I was born in 1868. Died in ‘90.” 

Alastor wasn’t sure how to respond to such an open and honest confession except with his own. 

“1903. 1933.” 

The silence that hung over them was more awkward, more filled with distance and pain and something unrecognizable than any of their other shared quiet times together thus far. Both sinners felt the need to comfort, to help, but had no idea how. No reason to, either, all things considered. 

Still, Alastor scooted back until he was pressed against Valentino’s side. They fell asleep without saying anything more.


End file.
